


Last To Know

by CherieRoseLoveless



Category: Mighty Boosh (TV)
Genre: Depression, M/M, Self Harm, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-07
Updated: 2012-07-07
Packaged: 2017-11-09 09:22:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/453900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CherieRoseLoveless/pseuds/CherieRoseLoveless
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>TWOSHOT Howard leaves Vince. Vince gets depressed. Crappy sumary, I know. Rated M for self-harm (which might be triggering) and character death</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Mighty Boosh fanfic! it's kinda depressing because I was slightly depressed when i wrote this. Part 1 of 2.
> 
> Warnings: self-harm (which might be triggering), slash references

"Why are you leaving?"

"Because, Vince, I am sick of looking at you. I'm sick and ashamed of you!"

Howard slammed the door shut behind him as he left, leaving Vince in shock and tearful.

He remained fixed at the space where Howard had been.

It hurt when he wasn't there. Vince placed a hand on his chest. He could feel it pounding through him. He was in agony.

Vince remained fixed to the sofa, staring into space, not caring the tears rolling down his face was ruining his make up.

When Naboo and Bollo returned, Vince was sitting and staring into space.

"Vince?"

Vince didn't reply, so Bollo waved a hand in front of his face. Blue eyes didn't even flicker.

"bollo? What's up with vince?"

Naboo slapped vince with all of his shaman strength. Vince shook his head.

"Where's Howard?"

"Gone. Said he was ashamed of me."

The shaman exchanged a look with Bollo. They had lost him.

Vince got up and went to the bedroom he and Howard used to share.

"I'm tired. 'night."

Once inside, Vince locked the door and pulled down the blinds so no light shone through.

Switching on the bedside lamp, Vince opened the drawer and drew out a kitchen knife.

I really don't want to start this again but Howard hurt me. Again.

Vince held the knife at his wrist and drew it across. Blood spilled down his pale wrist and onto the snow white sheets.

He slid the blade across his arm over and over again.

Red welts weeped down pale white skin and dripped onto the sheets.

Vince cried harder as he put the knife back into the drawer and turned off the light.

Climbing under the blood-splattered sheets, Vince huddled into a ball and cried himself to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

When Vince awoke, the sunlight was shining through the blinds.

When he sat up, he caught a sight of his reflection on his dressing table mirror.

He was pale, make up smeared all over his face, eyes puffy and red from crying and had dried red dots on his arm from last night.

After a long shower and a quick change (no make up), Vince felt ready to face the world.

Unlocking the lock, Vince opened the door and stepped out into the living area to find Naboo and Bollo sat on the sofa, smoking from a bong.

"Er-morning?"

"Morning, Vince," Naboo answered, sounding as stoned as he usually is.

Naboo and Bollo soon went off on shaman business, leaving Vince alone in the flat.

Lying down on the sofa, Vince closed his eyes.

About half an hour later, Vince sat up and headed towards the bedroom. Leaving the door unlocked, Vince pulled out a crumpled piece of paper and using his black eyeliner, scribbled a note:

I'm sorry

I'm sorry Howard but if you can't have me

No one can

Goodbye for now,

Vince

Then reaching into the drawer, Vince pulled out the knife and held it towards his heart.

My heart has hurt because of you Howard, was the last thought Vince had before plunging the blade deep into his chest.

LATER...

Naboo and Bollo had found Howard and demanded he return to the flat.

When they returned to the flat, it was eerily quiet.

"Vince?"

Howard walked towards the bedroom and pushed open the door.

Seeing Vince slumped dead on their bed, the knife sticking out of his chest, blood over the sheets, his once bright blue eyes glossed over and dulled.

"Hey Howard, what's up—OH GOD!"

Naboo and Bollo had entered the bedroom.

"Oh, god. Vince committed suicide and it's my entire fault!"

Howard kneeled at the bed, crying into Vince's black nail-varnished hand. Then he found the note lying on the floor and read it over and over, jazz tears staining the mod's scribbling.

"Oh, god."

Howard collapses in hysterical tears as Naboo takes the tear-smudged note from the jazz maverick.

"'I'm sorry, Howard, but if you can't have me, no one can.' Well, at least you know you drove Vince to kill himself. Did you really love him, Howard? Or were you using him?"

"Naboo, I loved him. I loved him then and I love him now!"

"So, why?"

"I don't know."

Howard turns back to the bed.

"I'm sorry, Vince," he whispered. "I wish I could turn back time so we could still be together."

Then he leans and kisses vice on his lips, which was now cold, for the last time, before pulling the sheet over his head and leaving the now cold and empty room, with a heavy and broken heart.

THE END


End file.
